


Of Snowballs, Hot Cocoa, and "Accidents"

by EloquentDossier



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Cute, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, New Year's Eve, Scheming, Shenanigans, Slash, Snowball Fight, new year's fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-10 23:58:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5605903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EloquentDossier/pseuds/EloquentDossier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>The first snowball glanced off Hotch’s arm, although Reid knew it had been meant for him when he saw the grimace on Morgan’s face.  The Unit Chief retaliated immediately, hurling the packed snow with an unexpected accuracy and hitting Morgan in the chest.  No one was quite sure who threw the third one, but it took less than ten seconds for everyone to buddy up in groups of three or four.</em>
</p><p>xxx</p><p>In which the team (plus three) brings in the new year at Rossi's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Snowballs, Hot Cocoa, and "Accidents"

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Reidemption (Charlie_Remington)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlie_Remington/gifts).



> This is set in season 7, which means the movie mentioned has been out on DVD for a little over a year (and yes, I looked it up to make sure) so I'm playing loose with how Rossi has access to it. I entertained the idea of Jack bringing a selection of his favorite DVD's, so if that's good for you, then awesome. If not, then you can choose what you'd like.
> 
> This fic probably wouldn't have happened if not for Reidemption. It was initially intended to be a Christmas fic, but I couldn't find the time to write it, so I altered it a bit. 
> 
> I'm still not entirely satisfied with it, but I can't keep editing and altering it when I need to work on other things. So, even though it's now over a week late, Happy New Year, everyone! <3

The first snowball glanced off Hotch’s arm, although Reid knew it had been meant for him when he saw the grimace on Morgan’s face.  The Unit Chief retaliated immediately, hurling the packed snow with an unexpected accuracy and hitting Morgan in the chest.  No one was quite sure who threw the third one, but it took less than ten seconds for everyone to buddy up in groups of three or four.

Reid wasn't quite certain how he'd ended up being led by Jack to one of the more exceptional vantage points in the yard, but he definitely wasn't complaining.  He crouched behind the stone wall and turned to both Hotchners, who were already scooping up snow and almost expertly creating snowballs and forming a decent pile.  Reid followed their leads and started packing snow together, as well, to put in a second pile.  “You two do this often,” he observed aloud, his gaze on his gloved hands.

“Yep!  Uncle Dave has the best yard for snowball fights,” Jack explained, and Reid glanced at the boy to see him grinning.  “We can usually do them at least once a month.”

That particular piece of information was startling, and Reid couldn’t help but look at Hotch curiously.  The older man caught him looking and shrugged one shoulder, lips curling into a grin that made Reid’s heart stutter.  “I’ve always enjoyed it.  There’s something almost freeing about it.”

“And Daddy and I always win,” Jack added, dusting off the excess snow on his gloves.

Reid was surprised to see Hotch nod.  “That, too,” the dark-haired man concurred, spurring a laugh from Reid’s throat.

At that moment Jack looked at Reid’s pile of snowballs and frowned.  “Spence isn’t doing them right,” he murmured, causing Reid to frown as well.  He glanced at Hotch for assistance but the Unit Chief seemed content to keep quiet.

“I, uh, don’t typically partake in snowball fights,” the genius profiler admitted, smiling sheepishly.  “I wasn’t aware there was a correct way to make snowballs.”

Jack nodded.  “Watch me.”  The boy started piling snow up before picking up the slightly-packed blob and packing it together more.  “You can’t make them too small, or they hurt, and you can’t make them too big, or you won’t be able to throw them far enough,” Jack stated matter-of-factly, rolling the snowball in his hands to smooth out the slightly clumped sections.  “Now you try.”  Reid obliged the young Hotchner and mimicked the same motions; after he finished rolling it to smooth the edges, he held it out in his hands for inspection.  Jack shook his head.  “It’s too small.  Add some more snow.” 

Reid did as ordered and started to pack the new snow onto the snowball.  “Don’t do it too hard,” Hotch warned, only just a bit late.  The snowball broke apart in Reid’s hands, and he stared at the indistinct clumps perplexedly.  His gaze shifted to the dark-haired man, however, as Hotch moved closer.  He wasn’t expecting Hotch’s hands to gently grip his, and he allowed the other man to put his hands in the snow again.  Hotch used Reid’s hands to move the snow into a decent pile before making him cup the pile in his hands, gently packing it together.  “The best size is that of a baseball, which is about two-point-nine inches in diameter.  Look at it in relation to your hands, and try to get the feel of it.”

The younger man had been far too focused on Hotch’s wind-chapped cheeks and the snowflakes that were trapped in Hotch’s eyelashes, something he hadn’t been able to see until Hotch had moved closer.  Reid felt his breath catch as Hotch’s eyes flicked up to his, and he immediately looked down at their hands, doing his best to ignore the sudden pounding of his traitorous heart.  “Actually, baseballs typically range from two-point-eighty-six inches to two-point-ninety-four inches in diameter,” Reid remarked.  He mentally berated himself almost immediately after when his mind caught up and noted that the measurement Hotch had said was in the middle.  “But two-point-nine inches is easier to measure without a ruler handy.”  Reid winced as _those_ words registered, and he momentarily wished the ground would spontaneously open and swallow him.  Why couldn’t his mouth just _stay shut_?  Lately he’d been saying all sorts of ridiculous things whenever Hotch was even remotely too close to him, and he couldn’t stand it.

Hotch’s lips quirked into a warm smile, and he murmured, “If you say so.  Now, once you think you have enough, you just start rolling it, trying to get rid of any idents from your fingers or palms when packing the snow together.  Sometimes it’s even somewhat shiny or reflective.”  Hotch still hadn’t released his hands and instead started moving them rhythmically, shaping and molding the snowball almost as easily as if he were doing it himself, without the impediment of someone’s hands in the way.  “And there you have it.  Setting it to the side allows it to stick together better but also typically prevents it from getting too wet and becoming an iceball instead, which is partially why we make piles.”

Reid felt the absence of Hotch’s hands almost acutely when the older man’s hands finally released his.  In an effort to distract himself, he set the snowball aside and worked on making another one.  It still wasn’t as good as either Hotchner’s, but it earned Jack’s approval, which was good enough for Reid, who continued making more snowballs since Jack had tossed aside his other ones. 

“I’ll take first watch,” Jack announced, smiling brightly as he scurried off to a nearby tree that provided him plenty of coverage.  Even Reid had a difficult time noticing when the younger Hotchner was peering around to check the yard for the others.

Reid cleared his throat and asked, “What’s the signal?”

Hotch chuckled and dared to look over the wall before answering.  “We alternate between several different ones, but today it will be one short whistle, followed by a certain number of taps on the tree.  One is to the left, two is straight ahead, and three is to the right.  If they’ve somehow made it behind us, we usually just say ‘back’ since the need for urgency is greater.  From this vantage point, however, someone behind us means we’ve lost.  And then if there’s more than one person, we’ll do more whistles before taps if that person is in the same area as another.”

“You really do take this seriously.  I’m not sure I’ll be the best partner for you two,” Reid murmured, his gaze returning to his hands as he worked on smoothing the snowball.

Hotch was silent, and momentarily Reid wondered if perhaps the Unit Chief hadn't heard him.  Then a gloved hand plucked the snowball from his, causing him to look up and catch Hotch's dark brown eyes.  There was an odd intensity there that made his stomach flip, and he swallowed nervously.  "While winning is nice, it isn't necessary.  The most important part is to have fun.  I indulge Jack in treating it like a battle because he has more fun that way.  Jack chose you as our third person because he thought you might enjoy the spin we put on it.  But if that isn't going to be fun for you, then we can pause the game and you can join whichever team you'd like.  All I ask is you don't give up our trade secrets."

It was mind boggling how often Hotch had stunned him in the last half hour.  The sincerity in Hotch's words caused warmth to bloom in his chest, and he felt his lips curl into a smile.  "In that case, I'll stay," he replied softly.

Something shifted in Hotch's eyes, and the older man's gaze moved just slightly, but then came a whistle and one tap, and Hotch was suddenly gone.  A breath later Reid heard another whistle and three quick taps, and he grabbed a snowball before turning to peek over the wall in the direction indicated. He saw someone dressed entirely in black running from one tree to another, and after taking a precautionary duck, he popped back up, waiting for a glimpse.  The other person gave himself away by checking around the tree, and Reid didn't allow himself to hesitate before throwing the snowball.  He laughed triumphantly as it hit the person's shoulder, and he ducked behind the wall again as he heard Morgan shout, "Aw, c'mon!"  After a pause, he added, "Watch out!  Pretty Boy's got some aim!"

Reid glanced at Hotch when he felt a tap on his arm, and he couldn't help but grin when the other man held his hand up in a fist.  Curling his own fingers into one, he bumped his fist against Hotch's just before Jack whistled again.  As Hotch moved to check, Reid's mind flashed back to just before the first whistle.

The moment he thought of it, he pushed it away with a shake of his head.  He couldn't afford to be distracted if they were going to win, and he was running off a slight high from taking Morgan out.  Besides, his mind had to have been playing tricks on him.

There was absolutely no way Hotch had been looking at his mouth.

* * *

Hotch honestly couldn't fathom why Reid had thought he wouldn't be an asset to their team.  The genius profiler adapted easily to their plans and strategies, almost as if he'd been part of the process of creating them three years ago.  It was amazing to watch, even though Hotch was well aware he'd seen Reid do the same thing during cases.  There was simply something distinctly different about it in a leisurely setting; Hotch couldn't quite pinpoint what, however.

He was still dwelling on that as he stirred crushed peppermint into his hot cocoa.  He glanced up when he felt eyes on him to find hazel eyes watching him curiously.  That was something he'd noticed the younger man doing a lot recently, and each time a small part of him preened, happy to be the focus of Reid's attention in pretty much any way.

"You can ask," Hotch suddenly spoke, and he fought against a smile as Reid startled, an absurdly pretty blush coloring his cheeks.

Reid cleared his throat, adjusting the mug in his hands.  "How long have you put peppermint in your hot chocolate?"

That wasn't the question the dark-haired man had been expecting, so he covered his surprise by lifting the mug to his lips and taking a test sip, nodding satisfiedly as the warm flavor of chocolate was followed by the refreshing flavor of mint.  "Ever since I was a kid.  My neighbor, Mrs. Ashlock, would make it for me every day after school during winter.  Even as a child I didn't have as much of a sweet tooth as the other kids, so she made it specially for me."

Reid smiled warmly, and Hotch felt his chest grow warm from something other than hot chocolate.  "That's really sweet.  You must have been her favorite."

"I wouldn't go that far," Hotch murmured, smiling faintly.  Reid's expression shifted just enough for him to realize he'd missed his mark at making it sound humorous.  "I actually caused a decent amount of trouble as a child.  Nothing too bad that would give me some sort of record, but enough to make several neighbors comment that they were worried about how I would turn out."

The other man hummed, accepting the slight change in subject, for which Hotch was grateful.  "Imagine how they'd react when they found out you were the Unit Chief of one of the best teams in the BAU."

Hotch chuckled at the imagery that produced because he was fairly certain all of them would be speechless, mouths agape.  "If we ever have a case in the area, maybe I'll make a slight detour after it's wrapped."

"We should probably join everyone in the living room before one of them comes looking for us," Reid suggested.  "I came back for a refill."

Hotch's brows shot up, though he wasn't sure why he was so surprised.  "Already?"

Another pretty blush colored the younger man's face.  "Well, since we aren't getting a victory dinner because we had a late lunch before we went outside, I figured this could be my victory drink," Reid answered almost defensively.

Hotch ducked his head to hide his grin, only daring to look at Reid's pouting face after he'd taken a moment to compose himself.  "If you want a victory dinner, I can take you and Jack out tomorrow night."  The words tumbled from his lips without permission, a fleeting thought that wasn't supposed to be given life.

Hazel eyes widened nearly imperceptibly, and Reid's lips parted to speak when Jack came running into the kitchen.  "Uncle Dave said we can't start the movie without you," his son announced.

"What movie?" Hotch hadn't been aware they were discussing watching one.

" _How to Train Your Dragon_ ," Jack replied promptly, smiling brightly.  "Uncle Dave hasn't seen it, yet."

"I haven't, either," Reid admitted.

Jack's eyes widened, and he was suddenly tugging at Reid's free hand.  "You _have_ to see it, Spence!"

"We're coming, Jack.  Don't pull so hard on him, please.  He has a breakable mug full of hot liquid in his hand," Hotch reprimanded gently.  The tugging was exponentially less forceful, and Reid shot him a quick, grateful smile as he followed behind them.

As they entered the living room, Jack let go of Reid's hand and scurried over to an empty seat beside Henry that Hotch was entirely certain was meant for Reid.  Both kids fell into a whispered conversation, however, so he let it slide as he took an empty seat beside Dave.  It wasn't until Reid slipped into the open space on the other side of him that he glanced around the room, noting that everyone had managed to somehow occupy all the other seats.  He caught Prentiss and Garcia glancing in his direction, and he shook his head with a quiet, amused huff.  His team never had been good at subtlety, and the current instance was no different.  He supposed he should consider himself lucky—if they had spent Christmas together, they would probably have tried some outrageous scheme involving mistletoe.

Hotch shifted into a more comfortable position, pressing his arm against Reid's.  The younger man didn't pull away, and Hotch fought the urge to smile.  Perhaps his invitation to dinner would actually be answered favorably.  He'd have to ask again later.  For the moment, however, he was going to enjoy the next hour and a half beside Reid, even with the nervous knots in his stomach.

* * *

Sometime during the movie both Jack and Henry had fallen asleep, and after it was over, the adults moved to an adjoining room.  Reid had taken a seat near one corner, hoping he would get a moment to recover.  He had barely been able to pay attention to the film, and he was currently so tense his muscles ached in several places.  He could still smell the gentle, sweet scent of Hotch's cologne, and it was almost maddening.

"We promised Henry we'd let him stay up until midnight," JJ sighed as she sat in one of the chairs beside Reid, pulling him from his thoughts.

"He just needs a nap.  It's only seven," the brunette male pointed out.  "If he's not up by nine, I don't care to be the bad guy and wake him."

JJ narrowed her eyes and scoffed playfully.  "I'm not falling for that again.  Last time Henry made every effort every day for nearly two weeks to point out how his Uncle Spence had woken him up when we hadn't."

Reid laughed and held his hands up defensively.  "I honestly didn't think he would do that.  He's typically very adamant about his sleep."

"I know.  It's both a blessing and a curse," the blonde agreed.

Both profilers looked up when they heard music start playing, and Reid furrowed his brows in confusion.  Rossi looked around at all his guests and made quick circling motions with his hands.  "Well, don't just sit there.  You'll only hear this crappy music in my home once a year.  If I don't see some dancing, I'm turning it off."

There were several startled laughs, and after a moment of no other movement, Emily suddenly jumped up from her seat and grabbed Rossi's hands before starting dancing exaggeratedly with him.  She was soon joined by Morgan and Garcia, followed by Will and JJ.  Reid smiled to himself as he watched them, content to stay in his seat.

"You aren't going to dance?"

The suddenness of Hotch's voice startled him, and he glanced up at the dark-haired man who had somehow managed to move from the other side of the room to come stand beside his chair without him noticing.  "I...  Everyone already has a partner, so I figured I'd wait until someone else was ready to take a break," he answered, proffering a slight smile.

Hotch nodded silently, his gaze shifting to the six adults gathered in the center of the room.  Reid watched him for a short moment before turning away, his gaze barely lighting on the others before it was swiveling back to Hotch as the older man commented, "I don't have a partner."

Reid momentarily couldn't believe Hotch was suggesting they dance together, and he couldn't stop the words that filtered past his lips.  "Are you asking me to dance?"  He sincerely hoped Hotch couldn't detect the hint of hopefulness in his voice.

Dark brown eyes finally settled back on him, and a smile curved Hotch's lips.  "That depends entirely on what your answer would be."

"I can think of worse dance partners," Reid replied with a shrug, faking nonchalance when his heart was pounding in anticipation.  Hotch moved to stand in front of him, extending a hand and quirking a brow in an almost challenging way.  He slipped his hand into the other man's, allowing himself to be pulled up from the chair with a laugh.

Dancing with Hotch proved to be both exhilarating and terrifying as he tried to ignore the way his breath caught in his throat and the way butterflies took flight in his stomach every time their hands brushed together unexpectedly or Hotch flashed a quick smile; those reactions were ridiculous in light of what he knew was simply friendly dancing.

Though there was a small, hopeful part of him that was beginning to think perhaps it wasn't entirely just platonic.

* * *

Hotch had come to the conclusion that perhaps feeding Jack and Henry made-from-scratch brownies topped with vanilla gelato hadn't been their best idea.  They had made the brownies after they woke both boys, and the notion of brownies had kept the kids from being too irate at being woken.  Unfortunately, however, not too long after eating, the running started.

Rossi had, thankfully, had the forethought to put up anything breakable, so Jack and Henry were given fairly free reign of the house.  The only place they weren't allowed to run around in was the room all the adults had claimed.  So of course it was the one place the two boys tore through as quickly as they could, as if that would keep them from _quite_ breaking the rules.

On their third attempt, Hotch was amused to see Reid catch Henry and start whispering almost conspiratorially to the kid.  The blonde glanced at his mother at one point but ended up nodding, and then he was on his way again, catching up to Jack who had been lingering just outside the room.  Reid happened to glance Hotch's way, and Hotch left Rossi, Will, and Morgan (who were discussing restoring homes) to join the younger agent just as Garcia, JJ, and Prentiss snuck off.  "Where are those three headed?"

"I honestly don't know, and I would like to keep it that way so I can't be charged for being an accessory," Reid answered with a slight quirking of lips.

Hotch felt his own lips curve into a smile in response as he remarked, "Having any knowledge of a possible crime could result in that.  Knowing something is about to occur, even if you're not aware of exactly what it may be, is considered illegal if the act being committed is illegal."

Reid shrugged, his hazel eyes practically glowing.  "I guess I'll just have to take you down with me, then," the brunette male murmured, grinning when Hotch narrowed his eyes playfully.

He wouldn't object to much if it caused Reid to grin at him like that.  "I think all five of us stand a decent chance against Dave," he admitted, relishing the startled laughter that spilled past Reid's lips.  "So what did you tell Henry just a few minutes ago?"

"I asked him to try not to run in here while they were playing chase and said if he could do that, we would talk to JJ and Will about him spending the night with me," Reid replied.  "Whether or not he'll find that a sufficient reward, however, is to be seen."

"He's a kid; their feelings can change in seconds.  If he doesn't want to go tonight, there could be plenty of legitimate reasons.  It's quite obvious to the rest of us that Henry adores you, so never doubt that."  Hotch remembered having a conversation with Haley about the same thing, although reversed, when Jack was barely a toddler.  He had been the only one home when Jack was sick, and the boy had wanted his mom.  It had been unsettling but also somewhat expected, and when he'd brought it up to Haley later that evening, she had been sympathetic while still managing to express how his job was the issue.  (The next time Jack was sick, however, he'd asked for his dad, and Hotch had felt somewhat validated.)

"I know, Hotch.  I wasn't implying that I thought Henry didn't love me.  I can't imagine loving anyone more than I love my mom, so of course I understand that Henry will choose his parents over me in most situations," Reid explained with a smile.  "It would be like Jack choosing Rossi or Jessica over you.  It may happen, but only very rarely."

Hotch deliberated over that for a moment before shaking his head.  He appreciated the times when Reid could subtly address a fleeting concern he had, even if he never spoke it aloud.  He opened his mouth to respond when Jack and Henry came tearing through the room again, except this time they gave chase around the room rather than straight through it.  "Jack," Hotch called out in a warning tone, and his son stopped in his tracks.  "What did Uncle Dave and I say about running in here?"

Jack looked notably chagrined, linking his hands together behind his back.  "To not do it," he answered quietly.

"Henry!" Reid yelped, drawing Hotch's attention as the young profiler pitched forward slightly, falling off balance.  Hotch barely managed to catch the other man, steadying them just as he felt Reid's lips brush against the corner of his mouth.  His breath hitched in his throat, and he heard Reid's do the same.  The younger man stumbled back, stuttering, "S-sorry."

Hotch yearned to pull Reid into a kiss to show just how unnecessary the apology was, but he caught himself before doing it when he heard two distinct laughs and the sound of retreating feet.  "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," Reid affirmed, nodding with a shy smile and refusing to meet Hotch's gaze.  "We should probably find out where the others disappeared to."  The suggestion was barely out of the genius's mouth before he turned and walked away, leaving Hotch to quell his disappointment as he followed at a respectable distance.

* * *

Reid knew he was being ridiculous by avoiding Hotch, but he was a jumbled mess of emotions from that semi-kiss, and he was afraid he would do something stupid.  Short of Hotch confessing to him, he didn't have enough proof to justify the possibility that the older man harbored feelings for him, and thus he wasn't quite ready to test his theory.

His plan worked until just before midnight, when Hotch cornered him and announced without preamble, "I think we should have a redo of earlier, minus the scheming fake accident by my son and your godson."

"What?" Reid squeaked, his brain immediately recalling the questionable kiss from earlier.

"Apparently Henry and Jack took matters into their own hands because 'the other grown-ups were taking too long,'" Hotch murmured with an undertone of amusement.  "And when they found out their plan didn't work, either, they were quite put out."

Reid wasn't certain how to reply to that, and his brain short-circuited as a warm hand cupped his jaw.  His eyes snapped to Hotch's and held the older man's gaze, going almost cross-eyed as Hotch's face drew closer.

"I need your permission," Hotch rumbled softly, his thumb tracing Reid's lower lip and leaving it tingling.

" _Please_ ," Reid breathed, sounding strangled even to his own ears, and a moment later warm lips were brushing lightly over his own.  He swore his heart stopped before restarting, his pulse racing and pounding so hard he felt it in his ears. He leaned in to press their lips more firmly together, his hands fisting in Hotch's shirt as he felt the older man smile against his mouth.

Hotch pulled back before Reid was ready, whispering, "Happy New Year."  Reid was vaguely aware of the others in the room cheering, as well as the cheers on the television, which featured the ball dropping in Times Square in New York.

"Happy New Year," Reid agreed before kissing Hotch again, enjoying the way his heart turned over as Hotch chuckled.  The year was definitely off to a much better start than the last.


End file.
